


In the Silence of the Night

by yurisnow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Complete, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurisnow/pseuds/yurisnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>November 1, 1980 - Peter Pettigrew murders twelve muggles </p><p>"What've I done?" Peter backed into a wall of an alley as people ran past. "What've I done? What've I done?" He started to panic when one of them stepped and Peter saw the tip of the wand. His eyes widened. Everything</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Silence of the Night

The deed was done but it didin’t make Peter feel any better. For some reason, if he’d just told the Dark Lord where his best mates were, Peter thought he’d felt better. However, that wasn’t the case. None of his insecurities or fears ended. In fact, they were even worse. The safety wasn’t there. He felt even more unsafe. If he rounded a corner, there’d be someone around it wanting to kill him. 

None of the Order Members knew it was him that snitched, no one would ever suspect Peter Pettigrew. That’s why the picked him for the Secret Keeper for Lily and James Potter. Maybe if they hadn’t, they’d still be alive. If Sirius was Secret Keeper they’d still be alive and Harry would be growing older with his parents instead of being an orphan. 

"What’ve I done?" Peter backed into a wall of an alley as people ran past. "What’ve I done? What’ve I done?" He started to panic when one of them stepped and Peter saw the tip of the wand. His eyes widened. Everything slowed for a moment. The wand was coming up in slow motion, Peter felt like he was stuck in tar, moving at a snails pace. However, the moment he heard the spell, everything sped up. The spell was casted and Peter grabbed his wand, disapperating without a second thought.

The house was small and familiar. The white siding with the light blue shudders next to the windows. The small front porch that had countless toys scattered across it. Vi wouldn’t have left those out unless something was wrong. Peter moved quickly towards the front door but then stopped when he saw another figure in the window, one he didn’t recognize. Did he move forward or did he stay back? Peter thought this over, trying to figure out what to do. When he saw the shadow of his girlfriend shake her head and point at the mysterious man, Peter knew he couldn’t go in there. 

"I’m so sorry, Vi," Peter muttered, trying to keep the tears away and the pain in his voice masked before he apperated in another location.

Central London. It was easy to get lost here, so easy when there were people milling about, especially muggles. Stuffing his wand into his pocket, Peter quickly lost himself in the crowd becoming a muggle. It was easy for some reason, maybe because his mum had been one and he spent quite a bit of time with her and in the muggle world. 

His thoughts wandered to the screams he heard, the light flashing outside the house. Why, why did he give them up? His chest constricted at the thought again, regret piling up on his shoulders. There so many that he didn’t know where to turn or how to deal with it. Did the Order feel guilty for their death? They were the ones who assigned Peter was Secret Keeper, they had to feel some remorse for what they did. Or was their no remorse on their part besides fury towards whomever committed this crime, this treason, against the wizarding world.

"There he is!" Someone shouted out causing Peter to freeze. Bloody hell. He needed to move quicker and he could only think of one way to buy himself more time.

“ _Maximus Bombarda_!” Peter shouted, turning around so he was walking backwards, casting the spell that hit a building, causing bricks to fall. Screams echoed throughout the London streets, causing Peter to run faster. He needed to get away, he needed to save himself from whatever was going to happen. If he was caught, he was dead, no questions asked. He needed to get away before anything else happened. Peter pressed forward, spells hitting the ground next to him, chunks of rock hitting his body. Blood dripping down his arms, mixing with the dirt and blood of the muggles falling around him.

Peter turned around, firing two more spells, the two more powerful ones he had on the top of his mind without batting an eyelash. No one ever expected him to be this strong. In fact, people always thought he was one of the weaker ones in school where really, they just never paid attention to him. If they saw his course work, his dueling skills, they’d realize how strong he really was. He hadn’t died yet and there was a reason for that. There was no such thing as good luck in Peter’s eyes. Whoever lasted long did it because of their skills and knowledge. There was no luck needed. 

In a moment, everything slowed down. Peter stopped in his tracks, looking back at what had happened. Amidst the fire fight, the ground was destroyed from the spells, a building was on fire. Dead scattered the ground blood was everywhere. The sound of crying hit his ears hard and Peter choked back a sob. He never wanted this to happen, in fact, this was exactly the opposite of what he wanted to happen. He was supposed to be back at home with Vi and Avery. Avery was about to go down to sleep and Peter and Vi were going to curl up on the couch together, mutter to each other, tell stories and jokes, make them forget about the world around them. 

It wasn’t going to happen because as quickly as everything slowed down, it sped back up. Peter was hit in the shoulder with a spell causing him to gasp and stumble backwards. Blood dripped from his arm and only one thing crept into his mind.

_I need to die._

The thought had never crept into his mind before this. In fact, why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? Peter felt another spell hit him, and then another and he fell to the ground. It was over. He knew it was. Death was coming but the fear scared him almost as much as getting caught. If he was caught then he’d be interrogated, asked questions he didn’t know the answers to anymore. Did he ever know the answers to the questions? Or was he really the stupid boy everyone said he was?

Pulling the switchblade from his pocket, Peter flipped the blade open. He could hear his father’s words echoing in his mind.  _"Muggles use these, your mother had one. It’ll help you in situations where magic can’t help you. Use it well, son, because someday it might save your life."_  

"I’m sorry, so sorry," Peter muttered as the knife was pressed to his finger. He cried out, the blade breaking his skin, cutting to the bone. He didn’t know if he could finish it. The pain was too much, causing nausea to roll over him. Peter swallowed to keep his food down. The last thing he needed was the food showing back up. Closing his eyes, Peter pressed down further on the knife, biting his lip to keep himself from crying out. Blood ran down his chin mixing with the blood that was pooling around his hand. As soon as the deed was done, Peter closed the knife and stuck it in his pocket along with his wand. 

Head to toe Peter ached, his body wanting to shut down and keep himself from hurting any further. If he slept then he wouldn’t feel the pain until he woke up in the morning. Peter glanced over his shoulder and something was holding the wizards up, what it was, Peter had no idea. Something had happened but he wasn’t questioning it right now. Whatever was holding them up was saving his life.

Without even having to think about it, the once five foot seven man was the size of a Norwegian rat. Even now Peter ached, his front paw didn’t want to work but that was fine, he could get away. Scurrying as quickly as he could, Peter found a sewer grate he could slip through. What seemed like years, Peter finally found himself somewhere else, miles away from where his friends and family were hearing the news of his death. The only thing that was left was a finger, no one knew about him being an anumagis besides the Marauders, no one ever knew. Not even with Lily found him during their sixth year did she find out. No one ever knew, Vi didn’t know nor did his father or mother.

Now he was thankful Peter never told anyone. If he had, he’d have people looking for him in places they’d never think to look now. Shifting back, Peter leaned against the wall of a cave, his body aching, telling him to sleep. He felt weak and lightheaded from the blood lose, from the lose of everything. He’d lost everything he ever had in the silence of the night. He’d lose Vi, Avery, Sirius, Remus, his dad, James, Lily, everything. He didin’t want to think about it, he didn’t want the thoughts clouding his mind. Peter ripped his shirt up, wrapping his hand to try and stop the blood flow. 

Finally the sobs broke through and Peter buried his face into his hands, feeling the blood, dirt and grim smear together on his face. Only one thought continued to bubble in his mind.

_What’ve I done?_


End file.
